


An Unfamiliar Fantasy

by VendelaP



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Changing Feelings, F/M, Gilded Cage, Manipulation, Sex, cold to hot, learning to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18319469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VendelaP/pseuds/VendelaP
Summary: Ursa was pushed into a marriage she never wanted. Now she must learn to accept the man she has ultimately chosen, and forget the one she left behind. She must learn to love a stranger. URZAI. Mentions of past Ursa/Ikem. Rated M for sensuality.





	1. PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A new URZAI story for you all. This is Part I. PLEASE REVIEW!

A Stranger’s Fantasy

* * *

 

 

Chapter One

 

Ursa couldn’t breathe. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She shifted uncomfortably in the seat of the carriage. A hand reached out to grasp hers in the darkness, and she looked down to the sudden and unfamiliar connection. She had done it. She had married a prince. 

The night had come on their marriage day, the sky bled black and the moon hung low in the sky. Everything had been a blur: the ceremony, the coronation, the dinner. Saying goodbye to her family. It was all over. The only thing that was left was, well, the marriage itself.

Ursa looked up, finally, when Ozai squeezed her hand gently in his. When her gaze caught his expression she only then began to comprehend that he truly seemed happy about this. This arranged marriage. She had arranged a different marriage, after all, with Ikem. Her childhood love. But that was all forgotten. Washed away and never spoken of. Now there was only Ozai and the new ‘royal couple’. Her parents had forbidden her from speaking Ikem’s name. She tried, desperately, albeit unsuccessfully, to put him out of mind. Ozai, the young and handsome prince, he was her husband now. And she had been ushered into his world of glittering parties and sparkling jewels. Aristocrats and politics and intrigue. This was her new life. The quiet town of Hira’a was not to be mentioned. Her husband didn’t want her stressing the fact that she had been raised with peasants, he had made that much clear. Not that they had a chance to truly speak to one another before the marriage. Only a few times, and never in private. He was virtually a stranger.

“How are you feeling?” Ozai asked from the shadows of the carriage. Ursa stilled. Out of all he could say, she would never expect that question from him. It startled her in a good way. She didn’t think he would care much at all.

“I’m feeling many things. So much has changed today. It’s hard to put it all into words,” she answered, truthfully. Ozai blinked, and then he nodded, facing forward again.

“Yes, of course. Words can only express so much. Although, I would hope, you are at least partially excited about the future… About our future.” Ozai’s face was unreadable in the darkness, his voice firm and clear. 

“Oh. Yes, of course I am! I am,” she repeated, as if she had to say it more than once to convince herself. Ozai smiled then, a smile that meant many things, things she could not fully comprehend. He slid his arm around her waist and drew her closer to him. 

“I am as well,” he breathed, his hot breath fanning over her exposed neck. She wondered if he might kiss her then, in the back of the carriage, but before anything could happen the car came to a stop. A servant boy opened the door, and Ozai stepped out, offering his hand to Ursa as she followed. Nervousness was consuming Ursa’s conscious thought. The palace looked, in every sense, like a beautiful spear - a weapon that had pierced the ground in some sort of rage. And it was to be her home. It was all too much. Too strange to believe.

Ozai escorted her inside, and all Ursa tried to focus on was breathing. In and out. In and out. She just had to get through the night, she told herself, she could figure out the rest later.

“I’ll show you my chambers,” Ozai said, perhaps to clear the silence that Ursa had grown fond of, and he placed his hand on her waist. She nodded, trying not to think of Ikem, at home, miserable. It was easier when they entered the main sanctum of the palace. The magnificence of the palace easily distracted her. The walls stood some twenty feet high. Their height caused the light to be cast into shadow near the top, perpetuating the idea that they went on forever into the night. Massive portraits and brilliant frescos lined the walls. Onyx sculptures, scarlet rugs, and mahogany tables decorated the hallways. It was more money than Ursa had ever seen in her life. Ozai was talking, explaining the layout of the main palace wing, but his deep voice seemed distant to her. She was floating in some unknown world. Everything seemed like a dark dream. 

Finally, they came to a set of breathtaking doors, inlaid in real gold. The surface portrayed fire breathing dragons and men fighting, side by side. When the doors were opened she wondered, briefly, if this was the gate to hell.

“This is the entrance to the royal family’s private chambers. My father lives at the top of the palace, of course, but the rest of the family lives here. My brother’s family resides in the west wing. You will live with me, in my quarters in the east wing.” The huge center chamber split into two hallways, and Ozai took the one on the right. Ursa tried to remember her way, but it was difficult memorizing the layout of the massive building. When they arrived at another pair of doors, again inlaid in gold, Ozai spoke again.

“These are my chambers- or, rather, our chambers now. You will be free to go anywhere within these doors. All of these rooms are available to you.” They stepped into a beautiful antechamber where silken cushions lay on the ground surrounding a low mahogany table for tea service. Other tables and statues decorated the walls of the room, interspersed between the large windows. Moonlight poured into the large room, casting a pale light on its clean surfaces. 

“The bedroom is through here,” he said, turning again to the right. Through another set of doors, this time mahogany, they finally came to his bedroom. It was a large room, as well. Easily five times as large as her old room had been. Candles shined from almost every surface, encompassing the room in a warm glow. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, startled by the amount of light in the room. She stepped forward. His room was set up as a square, with the large four-poster bed against the back wall. The sheets and pillows were covered in rich burgundy silk, the finest she had ever seen. She turned to Ozai. 

“Is it too much?” He asked, meaning the candles, “I thought it might be... romantic.” Ursa sighed, turning away from him. He was really trying to please her, she realised that.

“It is. It’s very romantic.” She tried to calm herself with even breaths. Her wedding dress dug into her spine, claiming her, grounding her. 

“I’ll send for the maids to take you out of your wedding dress. I would do it, but I wouldn’t want to risk damaging the silk.” Ozai said. Ursa bit her lip.

“I understand. It’s quite alright.”

 

* * *

  
  


When the maids had stripped her of her gown and removed her headpiece and jewelry, they brushed through her hair and rubbed sweet-smelling oils all over her body. They removed makeup, applied lotion, and brushed on rose-infused lip salve. All of this treatment made her wonder what the Firelord himself received at night. But she was thinking little of that. She was consumed with thoughts of what was next, after her and Ozai would be alone together. Finally, the maids dressed her in a simple silk night robe and left her alone in the room. She had a moment or two before Ozai would rejoin her, and she used it to try and ready herself best she could. She wanted to run. It wasn’t for fear of Ozai, but rather her guilt for leaving Ikem behind to accept this man’s hand. This prince’s hand. In reality, she didn’t have much of a say in it at all, but it still left a sinking feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of her old flame.

Ozai was her husband. She breathed deeply through her nose. Everything would be alright.  _ Forget Ikem _ , she thought,  _ Ozai is my husband _ .  _ He has every right to be with me. I married him.  _

When Ozai opened the door Ursa realized that he too had disrobed and taken out his hair. It was brushed back away from his face, but he still looked different without the golden crest in his bun. He looked entirely handsome, the smooth planes of his face illuminated from the multitude of candles in the room. Ursa exhaled.  _ This is my husband.  _ She needed to face reality. This was not a dream. He locked the doors.

“That’s much better, isn’t it?” He muttered, walking over to join Ursa, who was standing by the bed. He was still smiling. For a moment, Ursa wondered why. Then she had to remind herself that most people are happy on their wedding night. She was one who was strange. 

She tried her best to smile for him. Ozai wrapped a muscular arm around her and pulled her to him. With his other hand he began to stroke her hair gently, running it between his fingers. Up close he was even more handsome, she realized. She could clearly see the bright gold of his eyes, the elegant arch of his brow, the shape of his soft lips. Ozai was taking his time looking her over, and so she had no qualms doing the same. She pressed her hands against his silk-clad chest, startled by the hardness of him. He was in excellent shape. She slid her hand down his chest and found hard abdominal muscles, perfectly defined. 

Ursa realized, briefly, that this would be a fantasy to most girls her age. Marrying Prince Ozai on whim. Being escorted to the palace by the Fire Lord himself, becoming a princess, making love to a handsome prince. Most women could only ever dream of such things. She wondered if, had Ikem never existed, this could have all been like a dream come true to her. If she didn’t love Ikem, would this have been her happy ending? Perhaps it would have. She tried to hold on to that. She needed to pretend Ikem didn’t exist, and then maybe she could be happy. When Ozai leaned down to kiss her, she assured herself that this was the man she wanted. She was an actress, after all. She needed to act. For him, for herself, and for the nation.

 

 

* * *

 

Chapter Two

 

She kissed him back, passionately as she could. His lips tasted good against her own and she tried to take as much pleasure in it as she could. He was a good kisser, she realized. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing, as he seemed very comfortable. His hands traveled up from her waist to her thread through her hair. Ursa heard him groan as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. She pulled back after a while to look at his expression. His full lips were slightly parted, wet from their kiss. His eyes, passionate and intense as they always were, were locked onto her. He looked desperate, enamored. It started to sink in for her that this was something he truly wanted.

“Ursa,” he sighed, the sound low and husky in his throat, and then he was kissing her again. His hands were everywhere. Ursa was out of breath from his kisses and her heart was beating so quickly that she barely noticed that one of his hands had slid up to cup her breast. She let him, of course, she had to.  He was kissing her neck, then, and massaging her breasts with his hands. It felt strange. Not that he was a bad lover, he wasn’t, not at all. It just reminded her of the last time she had done this. With Ikem. She scowled.  _ Ozai is my husband. _ She reminded herself, again. She tried to let herself enjoy it. She tried to let herself become aroused. Ozai certainly was. His hands went to the knot in her robe, and before Ursa had a second to prepare herself, he had untied it.  He caught her gaze before he slid the silk off her shoulders, a silent plea. Ursa exhaled deeply.

“Go ahead,” she whispered, and the words felt like a noose being strung around her neck. Ikem could never forgive her for this. Ozai pushed the silken robe off her shoulders, revealing her pale body to him. She was illuminated in the candle light. Gorgeous, trembling, and somewhat uncomfortable under Ozai’s careful gaze. She was pure youth. The candlelight accented the gentle swells of her soft breasts and shapely legs. Ozai touched her ever so gently, slowly tracing his fingers down from her neck, over the peaks of her breasts, to her navel.

“You’re beautiful,” he moaned. She smiled gently. She new he meant it. It was still nerve wracking, however, to have herself on such full display. 

“Thank you.” He kissed her again, and she was grateful, because it meant he couldn’t see her. His hands could feel her and touch her, however, and they did. He let himself explore where he wished, rubbing his thumbs over her pert nipples. He pressed her body against his as he kissed her, and she gasped when he did that. There was no question as to whether he was aroused then - she could feel it up against her. She, too, was starting to feel something, deep in her core, but it was difficult to tell as it was mixed with fear and discomfort. This time when they separated he looked positively lustful.

“It’s not fair. You’re still in your robe.” She said, pointing out the unevenness of their dress. Ozai chuckled deep in his throat. 

“You’re right, it’s not fair at all,” he replied, smirking. He loosened his own not, then, and shrugged off his robe without any worry at all. Ursa’s expression was frozen in shock. Her mouth fell open as she stepped back slightly and gained full view of him. Ursa had rarely ever seen a naked man before. But Ozai looked absolutely nothing like any man she had ever seen naked. He was almost pure muscle. His arms, his chest, his abdomen, and even his legs were pure toned muscle. She was awe of him for a second, her mouth hung open, but when her eyes caught his arousal she blinked, startled, and looked away. She couldn’t help it, she was blushing. That smirk was still present on Ozai’s handsome face, and she was reminded, for another time, how arrogant he really was. She tried to ignore that as he closed the distance between them and took her lips in a soft kiss. She placed her hands against his chest, trying to keep at least some distance between their naked bodies. That was futile, obviously. She didn’t really have any say in this at all.

“Are you pushing me away?” Ozai said, looking down at her hands, pressed firmly, on his chest. His question came out of nowhere, and although he wasn’t mad, she sensed that he was not too far away from it. And she had heard of his anger. The lighting was casting shadows across the sharp planes of his face, and for a second she was truly afraid. 

“No, I-” she quickly refuted, her heart racing, her head pounding, “I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before.” She wasn’t sure if it was the coldness of the room or Ozai’s hands on her waist that caused goosebumps to spread over her skin.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Ursa. I’m your husband,” he reminded her, and she nodded. She needed the reminder. After all, she was scheduled to be married to someone else this day. Someone she didn’t want to think of. She looked up to reach Ozai’s gaze. He was so tall, so very tall. 

“Of course. Forgive me,” she replied. Ursa was an actress. She needed to act, she told herself. Otherwise this would be a horrible night. 

Ursa took a step backwards, her legs brushing against the soft silk of the bedclothes. She sat back on the bed and started to lay down, and it took Ozai no time to close the distance between them. Before she even knew what had happened Ozai had climbed over her and started kissing her. It was messier this time, more desperate. His hands covered her chest and her stomach. They slid over her legs and backside, and he devoured every inch of her. He moved down to kiss her supple breasts and suck on the peaks, taking each one in his mouth. She had to admit, it did feel good. Despite the growing fear in the back of her mind, pleasure was starting to grow where it lurked. His silky hair fell over her bare skin as he kissed down her stomach and it felt just as good as the soft bed sheets underneath her. It was more luxury than she had ever known in her life. She started to moan a little, hoping it would elicit a positive reaction from her husband. It did. When he looked up he was smiling happily. He stroked her thighs and then his hand came to rest on her knees that were pressed tightly together.

“Spread your legs for me, darling.” He was still smiling. She nodded. The noose was  tighter around her neck. She opened herself up for Ozai and he eagerly took the place between her thighs.

“You’re lovely,” he sighed, smoothing his hands along her inner thighs. She smiled for him, laying back against the plush pillows and trying not to look lower than Ozai’s chest. She tried not to think too much about what they were doing, really. She didn’t want to think about what it meant. Giving herself to him. It wasn’t long before he started exploring her body in a much more sensitive way, his fingers sliding between her silken folds and teasing the sensitive flesh there. She gasped, and that she didn’t have to fake. No one had ever touched her there before. He pleasured her with quick, talented fingers, and Ursa’s moans were no longer imagined. He kissed her legs while he did this, drawing little, choked moans from his wife. But that wasn’t enough for him. Not at all. He wanted her to scream out in pleasure. Ozai’s tongue quickly replaced his fingers, and then Ursa was positively undone in pleasure. 

“Ozai!” She gasped, breathless. She had never imagined this. His tongue and fingers making quick work of her. She moaned helplessly against his mouth. It felt… good. Very good. Ursa laid back and let herself enjoy the sensations going through her. It wasn’t long before he drew her to orgasm. Her breaths were coming faster and faster not for fear, but for undeniable pleasure. She came violently under Ozai’s practiced tongue. She lay, stunned, in the afterglow, and Ozai rose back up to look at her. He licked the last of her arousal off his lips, obviously pleased with himself for eliciting such a reaction. That much was clear from the confident smirk plastered across his face.

“That was amazing,” Ursa moaned. Ozai chuckled again. 

“We’re not done yet, dear.” He mounted her, kissing her in the process. Ursa was distracted and barely noticed that his length had slid up against her. She gasped at the new sensation. Ozai’s breath caught in his throat and he rubbed himself up against her, lubricating himself with her arousal. After the shock wore off Ursa realized that this, too, felt good, and she tried to enjoy it best she could. 

“Are you ready?” He asked. A pause.

“Yes,” Ursa replied. The final knot in her noose. Ikem would surely despise her.

Ozai slid inside. Ursa stiffened, and bit her lip to keep from gasping.

“Ursa,” he sighed softly, the pleasant sensation consuming him. Ursa knew she should moan as well, but it hurt, and she needed a moment to get accustomed to his girth. He bucked his hips and then Ursa couldn’t help but let out a little gasp of pain. 

He looked down to her, scowling a bit as he searched her pretty face.

“Does it hurt you?” He asked, breathless. Ursa opened her eyes to look up at him.

“A little, yes,” she conceded meekly. Ozai moved again, much gentler this time, much slower. His long hair tickled her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. It only hurts the first time, dear,” he assured her, kissing up and down her neck as he moved in and out. He was clearly enjoying it, even if Ursa wasn’t, evident by his choked moans and grunts of pleasure. Ursa laid still as Ozai fucked her, her gaze distant and her thoughts far away. She tried to remind herself to moan for him, but he already knew it hurt her, and so she barely tried. Her conscious was hurting much more than her body. It was almost impossible not to think of Ikem now. He would hate her for doing this. For letting this prince in between her legs. She tried not to cry. Ikem was supposed to be the one on top of her, Ikem was supposed to be the one there, moving in and out, moaning her name. Not Ozai. Everything was all wrong.

“Ursa, yes!” Ozai dipped his tongue into her mouth and kissed her deeply, grinding against her hips at the same time. He sucked on her bottom lip. He bucked up against her. He massaged her breast. The longer he kept on, the more Ursa realized that he had plenty of experience. He was a few years older, sure, but she had fooled around with Ikem, and he was nothing like this. Their clumsy couplings would seem laughable in comparison to this. Ozai knew what he was doing. 

When his speed started to increase Ursa started to moan for him. He moaned right along with her, his hands grasping her hips as he thrusted in and out. It felt good, in a strange sort of way, but it was overshadowed by pain for Ursa. Both of body and of soul. She was affirming her covenant with Ozai, but breaking it forever with Ikem, her love. She looked down, briefly, and caught a glimpse of red. Her own blood. She knew it was normal, but it still startled her. Ozai was getting close, his thrusts growing more and more intense, his gasps getting louder. He reached down to stroke her clit in the middle of it all, hopefully to entice some kind of reaction from her. She moaned along with him, trying to be a good actress, trying to please him. She pretended to reach orgasm when he did, moaning out his name breathlessly into his ear. 

“Ursa, dear gods, yes!” He cried, his climax overcoming him. He kissed her once more, this time sweeter, softer. His thrusts had stopped, finally, and she realized it was over. For a moment there was silence, and it filled the air. He pulled out. Ursa tried her hardest not to cry. Ozai kissed her brow and stroked gently, her hair and her breasts. 

“Darling,” he whispered into her ear, and Ursa scowled at that for a second before she let it go. He laid hot kisses at her temple. She wondered if Ozai really thought she enjoyed that. That she enjoyed being with him. She wondered if he knew that she was hurting inside. He seemed so content, so she doubted he did. She looked over to him, but he was already sitting up and sliding off the bed. 

“What are you doing?” She asked quietly. She blushed as she watched him walk across the room, completely naked. 

“Just a moment,” he responded, and Ursa could tell he was still slightly out of breath. He came back from the adjoining room a minute later with a wet cloth. He came over to the bed and placed his hand on her knee.

“Let me wash you. You bled.” Ursa was mortified at this idea but she knew, really, Ozai was trying to be a good husband, so she complied. He cleaned her, very gently. Ursa watched him as he did so, noting how calm and pleased he looked. When he was done he returned the dirty cloth to the washroom, and Ursa watched him go this time. Her eyes couldn’t help but fix to his toned backside. He really was beautiful, she thought, as if she was thinking it for the first time. She knew he was arrogant about it, but it was true. 

When he came back he smiled at Ursa and reached beneath her, and she realized he was trying to pull the covers down. He stood on the side of the bed and then pulled them over her. It took Ursa a moment to realize he was tuking her in. It was almost sweet. He blew the rest of the lights out and then he climbed in beside her, laying back against the pillows. Ozai sighed happily, pulling her next to him. He kissed her neck sweetly.

“My wife. You’re lovely.” 

He seemed so content. She smiled at him, not because she was happy herself, but because she was happy for him. At least one of them could be content in this marriage.

 

* * *

 

Chapter Two:

 

Ursa awoke surrounded by sunlight. She sat up in bed, dazed for a moment, forgetting where she was. Her eyes It was the painful ache between her thighs that brought her back to reality and helped her to remember the night before. What she found strange was Ozai’s absence from the room. She pulled the silk sheets up over her body to cover her naked form, looking around the gorgeous room of the palace in confusion. The deep red of the bedclothes stood out in contrast to the deep brown mahogany of the floors and the furniture. She turned, looking to the balcony that she hadn’t noticed the night before where sheer white curtains fluttered in the morning breeze.

“Good morning,” a voice called out from the doorway. Ozai’s voice. Ursa shifted immediately to him, finding him already dressed for the day in his traditional royal robes. 

“Good morning,” she answered back, a bit perplexed. She wondered how long she had slept.

“Have you been up for long?” He asked, coming around to stand beside her. She shook her head and pulled the sheets up higher to allow herself at least some sense of dignity. 

“No, no. I just woke up.” Ozai sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled at her, chuckling lightly. Ursa momentarily had a flashback to the previous night, when she heard him make that sound before.

“Late riser, are you?” He teased, smoothing down her hair, “I would have waited for you to wake, dear, but I rise with the sun. All firebenders do.” Ursa nodded. She was surprised when Ozai tipped her chin up so he could kiss her. It was sweet and light, like all kisses should be, but it still felt wrong to Ursa. Deep down she knew Ikem was hurting and so she hurt too. It mattered little that Ozai was handsome and talented and a prince. Her heart ached for her beloved, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. She drifted off in thought after their kiss and Ozai scowled as he saw her crestfallen expression.

“What is it?” He asked softly, brows knit together. Ursa shifted, coming back to reality.

“What’s wrong?” He repeated. Ursa inhaled sharply, trying to think of something. 

“I - I’m still hurting a bit, that’s all. It’s still a bit painful.” She choked out, hoping he would take that as a valid excuse. He leaned back, and she wondered for a moment if he would rebuke her, but he didn’t. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll send for the royal family physician. He can give you some herbs for the pain.” 

“Oh, that’s alright, I don’t know if I need anything too-” Ozai cut her off with the raising of his hand.

“It’s fine. I was already planning on having him stop by to see you today,” he explained. Ursa blinked, entirely confused.

“Why?” She asked. Ozai stood from the bed.

“To give you special herbs and mixtures for fertility. Raspberry leaf is one we discussed for you, a common aid to achieving a pregnancy. You drink it with your tea twice a day. But I am not the expert on such things, Dr. Lang can prescribe you.” 

Ursa didn’t know what to think. Yesterday she was a virgin and now here she was, discussing a possible pregnancy.

“I didn’t know you would be wanting me to become pregnant so soon,” Ursa commented.

“Well, of course. A pregnancy would result in another heir. That’s why my father wanted to marry you, of course. The fire sages predicted you would give birth to healthy heirs. My heirs,” Ozai explained. Ursa nodded slowly. It was strange to think she could become pregnant so soon. It was always something she saw as far off.

“Right,” she said, deep in thought. Ozai scowled again at her dour expression.

“Don’t you want to have my child? You’ll be giving birth to a prince or a princess of the Fire Nation?” There was an edge in his voice that hinted at his anger. Ursa turned quickly to him

“No, I do! I’m sorry. This is all happening so quickly, Ozai, that’s all. I wasn’t prepared like you were. I didn’t know that the Fire Sages had predicted this. I mean, I was already engaged to someone else when-” 

Ursa cut herself off, realizing Ozai wouldn’t want to discuss such things. She looked up to her husband to find him staring at her intently, seriously. She was frightened to think that she might have angered him. She visibly swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable under the thin sheet. He straightened, folding his hands behind his back. When he spoke his voice was calm and deadly quiet.

“This peasant you were arranged to marry before, what was his name?” Ursa’s heart ached horribly, mournfully, in her chest.

“Ikem.” A silence passed. Ursa was fearful. She had no real reason to be, but she was anyway. She didn’t want anything to happen to him, her love. Suddenly tears threatened to fall. Ozai saw this, he saw her trembling lip. He sat down on the bed again. It took him a moment to realize that she was almost crying for him, for this man she was supposed to marry. It made him angry and caused an uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he did not want to name. He supposed it was just jealousy. 

“Well you did not marry him, did you?” He asked, not being able to help the slight sharpness of his tone. Ursa inhaled shakily, having trouble looking her husband in the eye.

“No. I married you,” she responded. Ozai tilted his head back.

“Yes. You did. So you should shed no tear for him. Not a one. I am yours now. And you are mine.” 

Ursa wanted to cry more than she ever had before. His words only injured her more. However, with all the willpower she had in her, she restrained herself. She swallowed, stopped her shaking, and looked her husband in the eye. 

“Yes.”

 

* * *

  
  


“This is my personal office and library. I have another in a distant section of the palace, near the meeting chambers. You are free to read anything I own, although I ask you put everything back where you found it when you are finished… I have a system.” 

When Ursa was dressed and after they had eaten a magnificent breakfast, he decided to give her a tour of the palace. His rooms were expansive, she was discovering, and there was lots to learn.

“You enjoy reading for pleasure?” Ursa asked, noting the apparent variety of books. There was a case of firebending scrolls, of course, but there were also shelves filled with a variety of hardcover books, both old and new.

“I do. Very much so. I own several first editions.” Ozai watched her as she perviewed the room, scanning the titles.

“The Tale of Genji?” Ursa asked, looking up at him curiously, “You read romance?” Ozai almost blushed. Almost. 

“Sometimes. That edition is an antique. Very rare.” He explained. She nodded, tracing her finger along the spine. 

“I love that story,” she remarked.

“You enjoy reading as well, I take it?” 

“Yes. I always haved. I love reading plays, too.” Ozai made a noncommittal noise.

“I can’t remember the last time I read a play. I read the classics, of course, with a tutor, but that was ages ago.” Ursa scoffed.

“It can’t have been too long ago. You’re not very old.” Ozai huffed.

“Well, no. I’m twenty-five. But I finished my tutoring for academics many years ago.” 

“You’re seven years older than I am?” Ursa asked, almost shocked at the prospect. She hadn’t inquired about his age before. She hadn’t even had time. He looked about her age.

“Yes. Does that concern you?” He asked, joking with her. She looked him over.

“No.”

“Does it concern you, being married to a teenager?” She asked, not thinking much if it was an appropriate question. Ozai raised a brow, looking at her over his shoulder before he turned.

“No, not particularly. You’ve reached adulthood. Why would it concern me?” Ozai asked.

“I don’t know, it’s just that I’m so many years your junior. I might not be as mature as you might have hoped. Or as good a conversationalist,” Ursa replied, looking down at the floor. 

“I was not told of your age before your marriage. All I was told was that the Fire Sages predicted you would bear me healthy heirs. I didn’t know you were engaged. I barely knew anything about you. My father trusted the sage’s prediction, so he cared little for the details and neglected to tell me anything he might have known about you. He was sure I would obey him so I doubt he cared.”

Ursa nodded, thinking over the haste regarding their union. There they were, two strangers, thrown together into marriage without a second thought.

“I’ll tell you about myself. If you care to listen,” she answered. Ozai stepped closer, looking her over, and then he smiled gently.

“I would like that. Would you like to see the gardens while we talk?” He asked. Ursa smiled, then.

“I love gardens.” Ozai chuckled and opened the door to the private royal family estate. When she stepped out into the gardens he wrapped his hand around her waist.

“Go ahead. Tell me about yourself,” Ozai encouraged. Ursa smiled, looking up at him briefly before gazing back at the lush greenery of the gardens.

“Well, I just turned eighteen. My birthday is August 2nd. When is yours?” She asked.

“September 18th. I’ll be twenty-six.” He answered. Ursa looked at him.

“Only a month away then. Are you going to have a party?” She wondered. Ozai huffed.

“Of course. I’m a prince. All the nobles will be invited. People will come from far and wide to stay at the palace. It will be a grand affair.”

“I didn’t know that, I’m sorry. I barely know anything about nobility. My parents are only minor officials, and since we live in the colonies we don’t come for events on the mainlands.”

“It’s unfortunate. Isn’t it? You have so much to learn, and little time to do so. It’s a shame you weren’t properly educated about noble life.” Ozai wasn’t angry, only scolding, but it stung Ursa just the same. She pushed away from him.

“I’m not shameful. I was educated, it’s just that I wasn’t educated about royal life because it was assumed that I wouldn’t live a royal life. My parents wanted me to stay in Hira’a and live there, with them-” Ozai raised a hand to silence her.

“Do not talk back to me. And do not discuss your parents when it isn’t necessary. Especially in public,” he reprimanded. Ursa knit her brows.

“What if it is essential to a discussion?” She asked. Ozai sighed.

“It’s not traditional. I don’t want you to bring them up. If you do, people will think you are disobeying me and my father by ignoring our tradition at court. I can’t have that. All royal brides must forget their past and learn our past and our traditions. This rule was not made only for you. It is an ancient rule.” Ursa bit her lip. A sinking feeling came into her chest as she thought about her parents. She would miss them terribly. She wanted to cry for them.

Ursa flinched as Ozai drew his hand around her waist again, pulling her to him. He kissed her brow. Her head was nuzzled against his neck and when she inhaled she could smell his expensive cologne. He pulled back, tipping her chin up with his finger.

“Do you understand, my dear?” Ursa sighed lightly.

“I do.” No part of her desired to get on Ozai’s bad side. She knew no one else, after all.

He was all she had left. She couldn’t disobey him. He leaned in, and then she realized he wanted to kiss. Ursa had no desire to do so, but she leaned in anyway, letting him hold her in his arms, letting his talented tongue brush into her mouth and tangle with her own. He really was an excellent kisser. He was better than any Ursa had ever kissed. Perhaps, she thought, he would rather kiss than talk. He was much more likeable this way, after all.

“You’re a good kisser,” she complimented once they had parted. He smiled widely, and she could tell the compliment was well received.

“So are you,” he replied.

They walked and talked for several hours, learning all sorts of little details about one another. Ozai liked tea in the morning. Ursa did not. Ozai liked to swim, and so did she. Ursa loved to paint. Ozai had never painted. She promised to show him sometime. He promised to buy her paints. Ozai loved to train and firebend. Ursa loved to act and to sing. 

By the end of the day, she came to like him a little more than she had at the start.

  
  


* * *

 

Chapter Four:

 

Ozai had a meeting to attend in the afternoon and told Ursa she was free to explore the palace grounds, which she did eagerly. Both the scenery and the time alone was to her liking. Sure, servants would occasionally scurry past her, never making eye contact, and a few gardeners were outside trimming hedges, but really she was alone with her thoughts. 

The palace was in many of the inner chambers dark and very grand. Tall ceilings and omniscient shadows. She was impressed but otherwise fearful of them. At the very center of the palace was the throne room, a place she had never visited. Ozai had made sure to inform her that the main centre of the palace was off limits unless she was directly told to go there. The throne room was used as the war chambers, and meetings were conducted there most of the day and night, sometime in the Firelord’s presence, sometimes without. Ursa was grateful for her free time. She did not care for the war. It had never interested her. That was something she could never reveal, of course, in the centre of the capitol. She kept her thoughts deep inside, where no one could find them.

Ursa walked and walked through the palace gardens, finding little places to sit and rest. Beautifully carved pavilions and bridges dotted the lush landscape of the outer palace grounds. She walked through them and over them, carefully noting the intricate details and carvings engraved in them. Everything felt like an odd vacation to Ursa, or perhaps a nightmare, but it had improved by that second day. She had thought, initially, that Ozai might come to hate her. She was only a commoner, after all, and she had spent her days with peasants. She knew little of the formal life of the palace. However, after their first few days together, she came to think that he might not hate her after all. Maybe he would even like her with time, she wasn’t sure. Suddenly a servant emerged, bowing deeply as soon as she saw him. 

“Prince Ozai requests your presence in his chambers, your Majesty.” Ursa blinked, entirely unfamiliar with the formality used in the palace. She nodded. When she arrived at Ozai’s chamber’s he was standing before a group of woman. Servants, she assumed.

“Princess Ursa,” he greeted, bowing his head to her. All of the lady servants bowed, much more deeply than Ozai did.

“Hello, my Prince,” she responded, bowing herself. She would simply have to get used to the formalities.

“These are your maids and ladies in waiting. Four maids and two ladies to be used at your discretion. Your maids will be used for such duties as cleaning, laundering, assisting with daily tasks, and drawing baths. Your ladies in waiting will help to acclimate you to palace life. I can, as well, but they are much more knowledgeable with the more... feminine aspects of court life. Fashion and such. They can also teach you proper tea ceremony.” Ursa barely knew what to say. She had never had servants before.

“What are your names?” She asked. 

“Maiko, my lady,” one of the ladies in waiting answered, bowing her head, long hair falling in front of her shoulders. 

“Ari,” said the other, curtseying. They were both quite beautiful, although slightly plainer than Ursa was. 

“I’ll leave you all a while so you can be acquainted,” Ozai chimed in, excusing himself.

 

* * *

An hour later, after Ursa had familiarized herself with her maids, she sat with her maids to take tea. The taught her the proper tea ceremony she would have to perform for the firelord, and Ursa managed to make her way through it without messing up too terribly. She sipped on her matcha, relishing in the sweet tang as it slid down her throat. 

“Sit up straighter,” one of them warned. Ozai had told them that they could instruct her in whatever way they wished, basically giving them temporary control over her, even though she was their same age. Ursa did not care for it, but she went along anyway, knowing that her lord husband and his family would be very disappointed with her if she did not acclimate to court life. She needed to be seen as presentable.

“Don’t take large sips, either. A lady sips her tea daintily, little by little,” Maiko instructed. Ursa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wondered if they were hazing her.

“Is this strictly necessary?” She wondered aloud. 

“A princess is supposed to be a modicum of posture and grace. You must be forever elegant and beautiful, as well as smart and attentive,” Ari answered. She folded her hands delicately on her lap.

“We are the daughters of an admiral. We have lived in the court all our lives, and we have been well instructed to teach the little delicacies of womanly grace a princess must assume,” Maiko explained, her nose high in the air.

“We were taught to behave like proper ladies. You know nothing of court life, and if you do not wish to embarrass yourself before the entire court, we suggest you listen to us,” Ari added. Although the young women kept a delicate and polite tone with Ursa, she did not care for their condescension. 

“I know I was not taught the same way you were. I was never intended to become a princess. But I am a princess now, regardless of my lack of experience. And you should address me as such. I will listen to what you have to say, but you should not talk down to me. It is not appropriate,” Ursa rebuked, standing up for herself. She knew she seemed like a simple country whelp to these ladies, but she was not going to be pushed around like a nobody in her own palace. Her ladies in waiting bowed as deeply as they could at the table.

“We apologize, your Majesty. Please forgive us,” Maiko submitted, eyes lowered. Ursa sighed slowly.

“You are both forgiven. I don’t need you two to cower to me. I want us to be able to talk as friends would. I need eyes and ears in the court... I need you two to help me. Do you understand?” She asked, smoothing down her silken robes. They nodded, glancing at one another for a moment.

“We understand, Princess,” they voiced in unison. Ursa smiled.

“Great. Then let’s talk as friends would, shall we? What’s the latest court gossip?” Ursa asked casually, sipping on her matcha.

“The biggest news is still your sudden marriage to Ozai. It’s all the women at court can talk about,” Maiko explained, brushing aside her silky bangs. 

“Really?” Ursa asked. 

“Oh, yes. Many of the younger women of the court are jealous. They all wanted to marry him, of course. Everyone did.” Ursa blinked.

“Even you two?” She asked, eyeing the pretty girls aside from her. Ari giggled.

“Maiko definitely did,” she teased. Her sister made a face at her, willing her to shut up. Ursa raised a brow.

“It makes no difference now, Princess Ursa,” Maiko muttered. Ursa wondered if she was disappointed. Perhaps that was where some of her coldness had come from. She was probably jealous that a simple country girl had taken her desired husband.

“How long have you two known my husband?” She asked.

“Since childhood, my lady,” Ari answered, “We grew up watching him bend. My sister certainly enjoyed that as well.” She giggled again, watching the blush grow on her sister’s pale cheeks. Ursa was amused by this. She didn’t know Ozai had such an effect on women. 

“Like you didn’t, Ari,” Maiko rebuffed, growing irritated. 

“Ladies of court would sit and watch Prince Ozai bend?” She asked, chuckling. 

“They still do. Maiko went to watch him just a few weeks ago.” Maiko’s blush refused to calm. She huffed.

“I wasn’t by myself. There were other ladies there with me. There always are. We enjoy watching firebending. I’m a firebender myself. It’s good teaching,” Maiko responded. Her sister laughed in response.

“You don’t go to learn any firebending forms. You go so you can see Ozai shirtless. All of you do,” Ari rebuked, rolling her gold eyes. Ursa raised a brow again.

“We go because Ozai is a prodigy and true talent shouldn’t be ignored. It makes no difference whether or not he’s fully dressed. That wouldn’t be appropriate,” Maiko quipped, giving her sister a glare that said to stop teasing her. Ari stifled her giggles.

“He’s a prodigy?” Ursa asked. Ozai had mentioned that he spent hours training, but she didn’t know he was that talented. 

“Oh, yes! He’s spectacular. The best firebender I’ve ever seen. Have you never seen him perform?” Maiko asked, eyes wide with excitement. 

“No, I haven’t yet.”  _ I just met him this week,  _ she thought.

“Well, you should. He’s amazing.” Ursa nodded.

“So what are the women of court talking about, regarding our marriage?” She asked. 

“Do you want the truth?” Ari asked, her voice very quiet. 

“Yes,” Ursa responded, fearing the worst. Maiko pulled out her fan, trying to hide her knowing smile. Ari leaned forward as if to whisper a secret to Ursa.

“All the women wonder what it’s like in bed with him.”

 

* * *

“Ursa, good evening,” Ozai greeted as he walked through the door to his chambers, finally relieved from his meetings. Ursa bowed.

“Prince Ozai,” she responded. Ozai almost laughed.

“You don’t have to address me that way in private. Call me Ozai when we are alone together.” He smirked at her and she nodded, rising from her seat. A servant entered behind him, bearing an ice bowl with some sort of bottle inside. 

“Ah, a wedding gift from my brother, it seems. Champagne.”

“Oh?” Ursa walked towards him, watching the servant leave the bottle and hurry out without a word. He picked up the expensive-looking bottle.

“Would you like some? We shouldn’t waste this. This is an excellent vintage.” He turned to look at her over his shoulder and Ursa’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. Perhaps the women at court were right. He was quite striking. His eyes were piercing. The brilliant gold color was hard to look away from. It was only when Ursa saw him smirking again that she realized she was staring. She turned away, feeling guilty for thinking about Ozai that way when Ikem was back home, crying his eyes out for her.

“Yes, that sounds great.” Ozai filled their glasses while Ursa kneeled on the silken cushions of the antechamber, functioning as Ozai’s living room of sorts.

“How was your first day with your ladies in waiting? Did they instruct you about the tea ceremony?” He asked, handing her a crystal glass before he sat beside her, tucking his long robes beneath him.

“They did. I believe I understand it well enough now.” She took a sip, a bit hesitant. She rarely ever drank.

“That’s good. I’ll want you to perform it for me once before you do for the court, as a practice. I’ll make sure they taught you correctly,” he explained, taking a sip himself.

“May I ask why this is so important?” Ursa wondered. Ozai turned to look at her.

“The court, understandably, is doubting your ability to acclimate to royal life. They are not sure you will make a proper princess since you were raised with commoners. My father cares little about such things. All he cares about is the Fire Sage’s prediction of our union. But the rest of the court… if they come to dislike you it will be horrible. For both of us, really. They already do not like me much. If you disappoint, they will surely despise me along with you. Such delicate ceremonies will help to prove that you can be a respectable and elegant princess.”

Ursa looked down at her bubbling champagne, thinking. She felt nervous when she hadn’t before. Everything at court was so different than back home.

“Why do you think the court does not like you?” She asked carefully, “The ladies of the court seem to have quite a fondness for you.” Ozai raised a brow playfully.

“What?” He asked.

“Or, rather, your physique... And firebending prowess,” she explained. Ozai laughed.

“Oh, yes. They’re rather fond of watching me practice.” He took another sip of champagne.

“So I’ve heard. At least the ladies like you, then,” Ursa replied. Ozai’s face fell a bit and he became more serious, more contemplative.

“Some of them do. Of course, most of them are married, and that only draws anger from their husbands. And their husbands are the only ones who matter. Those women don’t make any decisions, their husbands do. And their husbands have come to dislike me. If they’re not jealous of their wives affection for me, then they're jealous of my firebending abilities. It makes for a very difficult position.” Ursa tried not to recoil at his narcissism. She nodded silently, busying herself by taking a drink.

“I see.”

“The others, many of them, barely pay attention to me. Their focus is on my brother and his many accomplishments. Plenty of the women like him, too,” his face had fallen and he was suddenly quite sullen. He seemed spiteful, even if he was trying to hide it from her.

“Is he a good firebender?” She asked. She didn’t know much about the crown prince, other than his good humor and skill as a general. Ozai sighed.

“Yes, he is. But he fights like an earthbender, almost. I don’t like his style. It’s too heavy. It’s too rigid. That’s not what firebending is about… It’s about fluidity- it’s about grace and style. Ferocity that’s light on its feet. Iroh’s style is too stiff.” He definitely seemed a bit jealous, Ursa noted, and also very competitive. 

“You don’t like Iroh?” Ursa asked, and almost immediately wished she hadn’t. Ozai locked eyes with her for a moment, studying her. He blinked, saying nothing for a moment.

“What makes you say that?” He responded like it wasn’t obvious. 

“Well, I don’t know. I just assumed, I supposed. Do you like him?” She asked. Ozai took a drink, looking away from her. She hoped she hadn’t angered him.

“I used to. I used to look up to him... I could never publicly say that I don’t like him, of course. And I won’t.”

“I won’t say a word,” Ursa responded. Ozai set his glass down.

“You should never say so. Even if he asks you.” 

Ursa looked him over, trying to read his mood, failing. He seemed thoughtful, however. 

“I need someone I can trust, Ursa. I need you to help me win the court’s good graces.” He was deadly serious.

“I understand, Ozai. I do,” she answered. At that, he smiled.

“Good.” He reached for her hand and intertwined it with his own, pulling it towards his lips so he could leave a kiss on her knuckles. Ursa set down her glass.

“Did you take dinner by yourself?” He asked.

“No, I dined with my ladies in waiting.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you. Our war meeting ran late, as usual, and I ate with the court,” he explained. Ursa couldn’t help but notice that he was still holding her hand. 

“It’s fine. I didn’t mind,” she responded. Ozai was staring at her intently, his eyes roaming her figure.

“Still. A husband should be with his wife. I’ll have to make up for it,” he teased, letting her hand go so he could stroke her hair and neck.

“How will you do that?” Ursa asked. Ozai smirked, leaning in to kiss her. When he was an inch from her lips he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

“ _ I’ll show you _ .”

 

A/N:

I know this story might seem a bit similar to Roses and Blood in some parts. I can’t help but recreate a few of the parts from Roses and Blood in this story since they are both (mostly) canon marriage fanfictions. I’ll try to keep them different, I promise! 

 

Ozai kissed Ursa intently as they made their way to the bed. He pulled her tight to his body with one hand and threaded his fingers through her hair with the other, drawing helpless moans from his wife. He pulled off her outer robes easily, leaving only her delicate silken undergarments. He let his own robes as well, tossing them to the floor, left in only his dark breeches. Ursa knew she needed to please him, and she also knew she would be best off in this marriage if she went along with his passion. Faked it, at least. If she went limp and lifeless underneath him he would quickly bore of her and more on to whores or other women. She didn’t want that to happen. Not at all. And yet it was difficult to return the passion he gave when she did not feel it.

When the back of her thighs hit the side of the bed she easily fell back onto the silky sheets, shifting backward. Ozai pounced, not unlike a lion-tiger, and eagerly took his place on top of her. She removed his royal crest and he did the same, throwing it to the floor. She tangled her fingers in his silky hair, making him moan into her mouth as they kissed. She needed to be a good wife. She needed to be eager in bed with him. It might be a form of dishonesty, she knew, but hopefully, it would be real for her one day. Hopefully, she would one day mean all the little exclamations she made for him.

“Yes, Ozai, please,” she begged as he unbuttoned her corset top and kissed her breasts lasciviously. She moaned when he took her nipple in his mouth. Ursa tried to enjoy it. She forced herself not to think of her old flame. She moaned when his tongue flicked over her nipple.

“Ozai,” she cried as his fingers touched her through the silken undershorts she wore. He moaned along with her, but no cry of his was imagined. He was enthralled with his new wife. She was beautiful and young and eager for his touch. She pushed him over and straddled him, gyrating her hips against his own, and he sighed her name. When she ran her hands down his abdomen and touched him through his breeches, he forgot all about her humble past. When she stuck her tongue down his throat, the last thing he was concerned with was whether or not she could perfect the tea ceremony. He craved her. Her touch and her body. Everything.

“Ursa, yes,” Ozai moaned, bucking his hips up to hers, kneading her plump breasts. 

“You’re perfect,” he continued. She sighed for him, moaned little pleasures in his ear, and he returned the affections. They moved together in passion, and Ozai knew nothing of her acting between their sheets, he was too absorbed in his own pleasure. 

Ursa ran her hands over his shoulders in the middle of it while he was thrusting inside her. She ran her sharp nails down his back, relishing in the feeling of his strong muscles rolling as he moved. He entered and it caused her no pain this time, thankfully. His movements were quick and graceful, much like his firebending. The sharp bucks of his hips drew moan after moan from his pretty little wife. It was better at this point for her, when the line between acting and reality blurred together.

Ozai loved it, he relished every second of it. He loved sex. He loved the low moans and throaty begging of his new bride. The pleasure was all-consuming for him. Just as the night before, as their coupling drew on, her moans become more and more real. At the end he was pleasuring her as she had never been pleasured before, thrusting in and out while simultaneously stimulating her. He teased the little orb between her thighs until she screamed his name, her nails piercing into his shoulders. Ursa tried desperately to only think of her husband. But despite her best effort he did appear, a visage in short bursts and flashes. She bit her lip to keep herself from moaning the wrong name. They came together, violently, and Ozai was in utter bliss while Ursa was in deep chaos. His name beat a staccato in her mind, his face appearing. Ikem.  

He rested his forehead against hers, both of them panting after their passion-play. A bead of sweat dripped down her temple, and Ursa really couldn’t say whether it was hers or Ozai’s. Ursa was wallowing in guilt and melancholy. He pulled away, sitting back as he sighed.

“Gods, you’re amazing,” he sighed. She tried to smile but failed. She tried with everything in her to think of something else other than Ikem. Ursa pushed her thighs together and looked to her husband. She should think of him. He shined with a layer of sweat, they both did, but somehow it didn’t look unappealing on him. Perhaps it was the way his taunt muscles glistened under the moisture, or the way his flawless skin practically glowed. She should love him, fawn over him the way the women of court do. He looked like a god, after all, and he was a prince. And a good loved. Ursa realized once more that she was the crazy one. Sometimes it felt to her that world was what was wrong, and nothing was her fault, but that was far from the truth. He leaned close to kiss her, sweetly, delicately, just the way young lovers should. It felt so good it made her simmer with guilt. 

 

Her dreams that night were filled only with chaos and the tears of her beloved.

  
  


The next day, Ozai had risen far before she awoke. By the time she was dressed by her maids and could ask where he was, he was already at his meetings. So she dined with her ladies in waiting and cried alone in her rooms. She had never felt such tumultuous emotions before. Her heart was being pulled in so many directions. She tried to paint to clear her head but was left only with frustrated lines and spilled ink. The day dragged on and on. When she had finally finished the evening meal, Ozai’s manservant came to call her to his chambers. His bath, more specifically.

“Ursa, come in,” the prince beckoned, seeing Ursa lingered in the doorway. She pushed on the door and carefully walked inside. Ozai was naked, sitting in the bathing tub, a huge in-ground washbasin inlaid in the center of the room. Blue and white mosaic tiles decorated the bath, a stark difference from the red everywhere else in the palace.

“What are you waiting for?” He chuckled lowly, swimming forward and propping himself up by his elbows on the side of the bath. Ursa realized then how she was standing stagnant. She willed herself not to blush as she let her robes drop to the ground. Ozai watched her intently as she entered the small pool. It still scared her to be naked in front of him, even with the steam, and she coyly covered her breasts as she stepped hesitantly into the massive tub. She stood for a moment, adjusting to the hot water he had generated with his firebending. 

“Come here, my dear.” Ursa looked up to see Ozai beckoning her over with a flick of his hand. Ursa wished so much that she didn’t feel discomfort at that. She wished she wanted to be with him wholeheartedly. And on another note, she knew very little of what men wanted from women and what this arrangement was supposed to be like. This part of marriage occurred only behind closed doors. Her own ignorance scared her. He reached out to tug on her arm.

“Don’t cover yourself thus. You need not to have propriety with me, I’m your husband,” he insisted, moving her arm down so he could see her breasts. Ursa bit her lip and dipped down into the water, looking away from him. She wanted to cry but knew she could not. Ozai tipped her chin so she would face him. 

“What is it? Is the water too hot? Does it displease you?” Ozai asked, jarring Ursa from her thoughts. She couldn’t give the real answer, so she nodded. Her melancholy was so strong it was hard to try to act like a perfect wife. 

“It is too hot for my comfort, my lord.” Maybe he would let her out of the tub, she hoped. 

“I’ll take away some of the heat for you,” he offered, and Ursa watched, perplexed, as he used firebending to clear both heat and steam from the bath. When he finished a few moments later, it was much more bearable. He looked to Ursa.

“Is that better?” He asked. She nodded.

“How can you do that? There is no fire,” She wondered aloud. Ozai chuckled, relaxing backwards and letting his beautiful black hair fan out behind him in the water. 

“A good firebender can manipulate more than just fire. There are elements very close to fire that can be manipulated by a bending master. Steam, lava… lightning.” His voice was quiet, relaxed, like it was nothing at all.

“You can bend lighting?” Ursa’s shock was clear in her voice, and the words came out breathless. Ozai looked up and when he saw the awe and excitement on her face, he smiled, not unlike a dragon. 

“I’m a master lightning-bender. I first bent lightning when I was but sixteen years old.” There was quiet pride in his voice, and Ursa could tell what it meant to him to have this ability.

“That’s amazing... It is a rare skill, yes?” She asked, not knowing much about the act itself. She had only seen it once, at a fair, and it was terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time.

“Exceedingly rare. There are millions of firebenders, but almost none have this skill. I believe the current number of lighting-benders is somewhere around fifty… It is a gift,” he explained. Ursa’s eyes widened again.

“Could I see it sometime?” She asked, genuinely curious. She couldn’t picture it, really. Ozai practically beamed with pride. He smiled, this time with no twisted sarcasm, but out of happiness.

“I would love that,” He sighed, only realizing afterward how intensely his words must have seemed. But then he realized he shouldn’t care about coming on too strong. She was his wife, after all. She had to return the affection, it was her duty.

“I want you to come and watch me perform. You can come to my sparring matches, too.” Ursa blinked, sitting next to him in the bath. 

“You have both performances and matches?” She asked. He washed his hair as they conversed.

“Yes, I perform at the college of firebending sometimes. I instruct lightning-bending to capable soldiers. Once a month, perhaps, sometimes more. But I have sparring matches very frequently with other masters. When I was seventeen I outgrew my firebending master, for he had nothing left to teach me, so I practice on my own now.” Ursa watched intently as she saw her husband get lost thinking of his firebending. She could tell just from the few times he had spoken about the subject how much he invested in it. 

“I duel with my sparring partners every morning except Sunday. I duel with masters as frequently as I can. And I practice on my own, too, inventing new techniques and working on my conditioning, of course.” She didn’t doubt it. His musculature was unparalleled. 

“How much time do you dedicate to your bending?” She wondered.

“A couple of hours per day for conditioning. An hour for sparring in the morning. And I usually practice alone at night, drilling forms and sets. Usually somewhere around four hours a day. With Sundays off.” He finished rinsing his hair.

“You’re very dedicated,” Ursa muttered, sinking deeper into the water. Ozai looked towards his wife.

“Of course. Any good master is dedicated to their craft or their study. And any prince must well represent the royal family. Indolence is a most unbecoming trait for a man of honor, of nobility, such as myself.” Ursa nodded. She knew little of what honor was supposed to be. Or rather, what it meant in the capital. Everything was not what it seemed. 

“That’s quite enough talk, I think... Come here darling,” he beckoned again, willing her to get closer. He smiled, looking over her nude form. Ursa gave him a look of confusion. 

“I am already right next to you, my lord,” she rebuked quietly. Somehow, the title stung him.

“Don’t address me that way in private,” he snapped, “I don’t like it. Call me by my given name.” 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at the water. Ozai sighed. 

“You don’t need to apologize, just come here. I want to touch you,” he ordered, and fear rose again in her stomach. Or perhaps it was guilt, she was not sure. Probably a combination of the two. Nevertheless, she conceded, for she had to. She took a step forward so her knees brushed with his. Ozai then grasped her naked waist and pulled her closer.

“Sit on my lap, dear,” he insisted. When she had, he let his hands wander where they liked, down her chest and across her thighs. His thumb rolled over her small nipple, playing with it. Ursa inhaled sharply at the sensation, willing herself to calm down and remember that he was her husband and he was allowed to do such things. She was in such a poor mood, trying to play pretend was almost impossible. He kissed her neck and her earlobe. He sucked on her breasts and laid sweet kisses at the valley between them. Her heartbeat was elevating. She didn’t want to have sex. She wanted to cry, or maybe to throw herself from the balcony. Not this. When his fingers inched higher up her inner thigh she could not help but grimace at the sensation. She didn’t think he was watching, anyway, for his eyes had mostly been closed. But she was wrong. Ozai was watching, and her disdainful expression made something inside of him boil. He stopped touching her all together.

“What is that for?” He asked, not really trying to stop the anger rising in his chest. Why was she making such a face? His heart sunk without his permission. Ursa’s head snapped around to look at his face. The anguish and anger there startled her greatly and she pushed off his lap.

“What?” She replied, startled. She hadn’t thought he was looking at her face.

“Your expression. What the hell was that?” The anger was only increasing. Ursa’s eyes went wide. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, and as she spoke she knew the lie was easy to detect.

“Why were you looking at me like that? Like my touch repels you?” He growled, brows knit together. Ursa hadn’t realized she was letting her emotions show in full. She pushed back in the tub, fearful of him. She didn’t know how she was supposed to explain, and words were caught in her throat like a knot. She knew if she tried to talk she would cry.

“I don’t understand,” he choked, finding it difficult to conceal his emotions or thoughts. Ursa looked deep into his eyes and found that behind the anger he was hurt. She sighed. She felt bad for offending him so much, it wasn’t really his fault after all. 

“I’m sorry. Please…” she couldn’t think of what to say, really. She wrapped her arms around herself. 

“Please don’t be so mad at me, Ozai, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such an expression.” The words rushed out of her but offered no explanation. Ozai sat, still, on the other side of the bath. Something inside him was hurting intensely and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand why she was affecting him so much.

“You don’t want me to touch you?” His voice was almost a whisper, and when the anger was gone there was no concealing his wounded pride. Ursa looked to him, to his expression, and hated herself. Not only was she making Ikem suffer back in Hira’a, but she was making her new husband suffer as well. She couldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair, for Ozai had done nothing wrong. He was pushed into this marriage just as she was. 

“No, I do, I’m sorry. I do, please continue” she reassured him, coming back across the water and lightly kissing his scowling lips. When she pulled away she realized the pain was still there and the kiss had done nothing to solve it. Ozai was smart. He could tell she was acting now, and that thought scared her. He wasn’t buying it anymore.

“I don’t understand,” he repeated, his voice quiet, “Why?” Ursa inhaled, looking over his supremely handsome face. He had probably never been rejected in romance before. She cupped his strong jaw with her hand. 

Ursa didn’t know whether to lie or tell the truth. She feared she would incur his anger either way. And lying to him was proving difficult. He was too intelligent for that. She exhaled.

“It’s nothing to do with you. It’s my problem, Ozai… I’m sorry. Let’s forget it. I’ll get over it.” Ursa looked him in the eyes, watching the cogs turning in his head. 

“Your problem? Pray, what is that?” The deadly quiet of his voice frightened her. He sounded a bit like a snake. She said nothing, trying to think of an answer. But that only made things worse.

“You don’t like being with me? You don’t want me to touch you? Do I repel you so much?!” Ursa opened her mouth to speak, but Ozai was fuming again. He rose from the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist, facing away from her. Ursa followed him out.

“Let me tell you, Ursa, I’ve had many women in my years, none of which have rejected me thus. You were a simple country girl when I met you. A virgin… and now you dare to judge me this way? You think you deserve a better lover than me? Some other man? Is that what this is?” Ursa placed her hands on his arms, shaking her head and willing him to calm. She had messed up horribly, and she hated herself for it. 

“No, no, no. Please, it’s not true. Ozai, it’s not true... I don’t think you’re a bad lover, that’s not it at all.” Her heart was pounding in her chest. Anger was coming off of her husband in waves. The steam was growing hotter and hotter and she knew it was Ozai doing so unconsciously out of his own rage.

“Then what is it? I asked before and you gave no answer!” She grimaced.

“I would tell you but you forbade me to speak of it. You forbade me.” 

“Well, by the gods, say it now, or I will kick you out of here myself. You think no woman would take your place?! I am a prince, you have no right to act with me this way.” Ursa’s breath hitched in her throat, and tears pricked at the edge of her eyes.

“I fear your anger, Ozai, that’s why I didn’t say it earlier.”

“Well you’ve already incurred my anger, haven’t you? So say it now.” She couldn’t stop the tears that threatened to fall and they fell, running down her pale cheeks. She clutched the towel closer to herself, ragged breaths going in and out. She looked away from him. The truth would have to come out if she had any chance.

“I’m sorry that I’m hurting you. I’m trying not to. It’s just… I can’t help but feel guilty for this Ozai. Please understand me. I feel so incredibly guilty for what I have done.” Ozai’s expression shifted slightly, and he stepped towards her.

“Guilty? Guilty of what?” A pause.

“I left my fiance for you. I had already pledged myself to him, I promised him everything and then I went back on my promise. We- he was desperately in love with me, and I still abandoned him. I broke his heart. I can’t help that I feel guilty for it. For letting you marry me… touch me. I try not to think about it but, sometimes it just reminds me of- of how I broke his heart so horribly, and- It’s not your fault. It’s all my fault.” The tears were falling in a steady stream then, and Ursa held back the sobs in her throat. Ozai tipped her chin up so he could see her tear-stricken face. He should be angry at her- for thinking of her old lover - but her tears softened him somehow. She was so beautiful when she cried, her large amber eyes wet with tears, her pretty eyelashes darkened. Ozai didn’t know why, he didn’t understand, but instead of yelling at her, he leaned down. He kissed her. 

The action confused Ursa greatly but it was a much better reaction than she was expecting. It was a sweet kiss, and it seemed almost as if his kiss was speaking for him. Offering affection and apology. When he pulled away the anger looked as if it had been sucked out of him, and he was only staring deeply into her eyes, introspective. On an impulse she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and they embraced for the very first time. She ran her fingers through his wet hair and held him close. She had to salvage the only relationship she had left in her life. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in his ear, and she meant it,“I don’t want to hurt you. Know that. I promise I’ll be a better wife.” 

He locked eyes with her, cupping her jaw.

“Then think of me. What use is there of thinking of that peasant you left behind? You will never see him again. You married me, and whatever your emotions may be, that is the truth. So do not care for him, it won’t bring anything for you but despair. Care for me. I am the one you tied yourself to. A million peasant girls would kill for this life. To be a princess, to be married to a prince. Don’t squander your good fortune and future crying over him. Why be miserable when you could be happy? I can make you happy, Ursa. But only if you let me.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

* * *

  
  
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	2. PART TWO

**PART TWO**

Ursa tapped her long nails against her teacup, lost in thought. She kneeled upon a silken cushion at the glossy dining table, waiting for her breakfast to arrive on golden trays. The windows were open and let in the summer morning breeze coming from the sea, sheer white curtains rippling gently in the wind. The young princess's mind was full despite the early hour.

"Good morning," Ozai greeted, entering the dining room and stirring Ursa out of her reverie, "I did not expect to see you up so early." She smiled at her husband, already dressed and prepared for the day, his long hair tied up with the gold crest set in his bun.

"Good morning. Did I miss your morning sparring session?" She asked. Ozai nodded.

"I spar at dawn. It is a few hours beyond that now. You do not need to wake for those sessions, dear." He kneeled down at the table opposite his wife.

"Are you sure? I know you said you wanted me to see you firebend."

"You can come to the evening session. It wouldn't be polite of me to ask you to interrupt your beauty sleep for me," he muttered, looking over her cream-colored silk night robes. She hadn't dressed yet. Ursa nodded in agreement. She was glad she did not have to rise at dawn.

"Are you drinking the tea leaves the doctor gave you?" Ozai asked, peering into her cup.

"Yes, twice a day," she said, taking another swallow, "Do you think it will help?"

"Let us hope so. My father will expect a pregnancy soon, I'm sure. Especially because of my brother…" Ozai looked out the window at the city.

"Your brother?" She wondered, raising a brow.

"His wife became pregnant only a month after their wedding. And their firstborn was a healthy son, of course, Lu Ten. He's only a couple of years younger than I am…" Ursa detected the hint of jealousy and scorn in his expression.

"Only a month?" Ursa asked, to which Ozai scoffed.

"Well, everyone suspects Lu Ten was conceived out of wedlock. She was already growing round a few weeks into their marriage... and then was conveniently shipped off to a palace in the mountains to deliver. No one knows when she actually gave birth because she was not here." Ursa nodded.

"She died of fever, yes? That's what my ladies-in-waiting said."

"Yes, she did. I barely remember her at all. I was only a child when she died," Ozai mentioned nonchalantly.

"It must be somewhat strange having a brother so much older than you…" Ursa thought.

"He's old enough to be my father," Ozai mumbled. Ursa knew she should change the subject as Ozai obviously hated discussing his brother. Thankfully, servants arrived then bearing traditional breakfast. They set down trays bearing rice, miso, grilled eel-squid, and  _tamayago_  - a sweetened omelet. The fragrant meal was a welcome distraction. Ursa smiled as she picked up her chopsticks. She had never had food prepared for her like this, and never such good quality. Ozai watched her, interested.

"We've received an invitation to have dinner tonight at the house of Kai Miyazaki and his wife. I used to train with him in my youth. Now he teaches at the college of firebending."

Ursa smiled.

"Your friend?" She asked, excited at the idea. She didn't think he had any friends. He hadn't mentioned any yet, and that thought concerned her greatly, although she wouldn't mention it. Ozai blinked, looking over her facial expression. He barely ever used that word. He wasn't sure if he was friends with Kai, really, although that made the most logical sense for what their relationship was. He drank from his teacup.

"Mm… yes, I suppose. My friend," he replied, finding the phrase a bit awkward. Ursa was beaming. She was beginning to think Ozai was a recluse who only ever read history tombs in his apartment during his free time. She was excited at the prospect of friends. She reached across the table to place her hand over his.

"Tell me about him, please," she implored, her face bright. Ozai was confused by her excitement. He nodded.

"He's my age. A talented firebender, he's trained since he could walk. His mother is a professor and his father a minor nobleman who served in the army. He died in the battle at Kozai many years ago, when my father was in command of the army," Ozai explained. Ursa nodded along, eating while her husband talked.

"What about him, though? What is he like? His personality?" She inquired, sipping her miso. Ozai raised a brow.

"He's… he's smart. Inquisitive. He thinks for himself. Somewhat brave, I would say."

"Somewhat brave?" Ursa asked. Ozai smirked.

"He's brave enough to stand up to me when he thinks I'm wrong about something. I would say that takes some balls," he jested, chuckling as he sipped his tea.

"Yes, I would say so," Ursa agreed quietly, remembering his anger vividly in her mind. It had startled her. Usually, Ozai was so reserved and calm when his anger struck it was as violent as lightning. She wanted to do everything she could to avoid that.

"And his wife?" Ursa asked. Ozai cut the  _tamayago_.

"I don't really know her. I met her at their wedding. Very pretty… She seemed nice enough, I suppose. But then, everyone is on their best behavior at a wedding," he explained, taking a bite of egg. Ursa hummed in response, thinking back to her wedding day.

"Perhaps she could be a friend for you, my dear," he suggested, meeting her gaze. Ursa smiled.

"I hope so. I would dearly love to have a friend near the palace. They don't live very far, do they?" She asked. Ozai shook his head.

"No, just uptown, on the west side," he answered. Ursa scowled, unfamiliar with his vernacular.

"Uptown?" She asked, blinking. Ozai tried not to laugh, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"I forget that you're from the country sometimes. Uptown means in the caldera and the west side is the housing district on the west of Kawa avenue," Ozai explained.

"Ah, I see," Ursa nodded, feeling like a stupid country girl. She finished her tea. When Ozai chuckled again she thought he was making fun of her, but then he reached across and swiped a bit of egg from the corner of her mouth. Ursa blushed.

"I'll have your ladies in waiting instruct you today. Continue studying court manners and duties. I'll take lunch with the court, but I will see you after my meetings. You will be prepared to leave for the Miyazaki's, yes?" He asked, rising from the table. Ursa did the same. It still felt odd to Ursa to not finish all the food presented to her, or to leave a mess at the table. But princesses do not clean up after themselves, she knew. She was learning. How to be a dutiful princess and wife. She smiled.

"Yes, I'll see you then."

When he kissed her it felt different somehow, and she didn't know why.

* * *

Ursa sat at her vanity in her dressing room, her maids hovering around her, applying makeup and styling her hair. She was not used to this type of pampering or extravagance every day, but she said nothing. She let them plait braids and curl her hair, apply blush and mascara. Her maids did not speak unless spoken to, and they were coy and meek in demeanor. Ursa did not really feel any higher than them in station, but she was, and so she was not supposed to speak with them as her equals.

"We are done, Princess Ursa," one of them said, shuffling away from the table. Ursa inspected their handiwork in the mirror. It looked much more elegant than anything she could have done on her own.

"Thank you, it looks lovely," she answered, rising and walking back into her main rooms as they bowed. She walked through Ozai's rooms, then. He had said she was allowed to explore them, anyway. She had her own chambers, set to the right of his own, although she knew he would not like her to sleep in these chambers. He liked to sleep with her, his arm protectively wrapped around her waist as he slept. Ursa had not expected him to do so, but she supposed it was better than being alone at night. She would wake often from dreams of Ikem, and it was better to have Ozai beside her, silently comforting her, than to suffer alone. He was becoming a welcome distraction.

She walked out of her bedroom and entered Ozai's, or rather theirs, which was the largest bedroom she had ever seen. It was easily the size of a house for a poorer person. The room was elegantly decorated with mahogany furniture, of the best quality she had ever seen in her life. The huge bed was delicately carved with depictions of dragons and phoenixes spouting fire. The red silk bedspread stood out in comparison, catching the eye.

On the right side of the room, there was a large armoire. Ursa ran her fingers over the polished carved wood. Curiously, she opened the wardrobe, revealing dozens of robes in different shades of red, burgundy, brown, and black. Most were trimmed with real gold thread. There were long robes and vests, a few capes and jackets. She looked through the drawers of his dresser. There were more casual clothes such as pants and vests for training. Everything was clean and neatly folded. Ursa blushed when she found his underclothes, quickly shutting the drawer, realizing that she was invading his privacy. However her interest took the better of her and she continued to rummage through his private things. She moved on to his adjoining office, kept to the same standard of cleanliness as the bedroom. She looked through the bookcases and then sat at his large desk, running her hands over the glossy surface. Set out there were a quill and ink, a stack of government papers he was going over, and a stamping set, all neatly arranged. There were also a few tombs on military strategy set out that he must have been reading. She went through his desk, then, not caring if she was snooping. He had said what was his was hers after all, and he hadn't told her to leave his things alone.

The large desk had four drawers, two on the right and two on the left. The ones on the right had nothing that interesting. Some papers, extra quills, and a few empty notebooks. On the left side, however, she was flipping through some notepads and found a small sketch at the bottom of the drawer. It was a drawing of a beautiful young woman in a yukata. Her hair was long and silky, her eyes gleaming out from the surface. Ursa huffed, scowling over the small sketch that she supposed was done by Ozai's hand. Who else? There was no artist's signature, no name at all. Only the sketch stuffed in the bottom of his desk drawer, out of sight. She wondered if he had a courtesan, a woman on the side that he slept with as well. The thought angered her. Hearing footsteps in the main living room, she quickly put the drawing back in its place, close the door and stood. Ozai entered and she bowed.

"Hello, Ozai," she greeted, hoping he would not figure out in some way that she had been snooping through his things.

"Hello, dear. Why are you in here?" He asked. She swallowed.

"You said I could read your books, so I was just perusing them…" she answered, fingering the silk of her obi. Ozai raised his eyebrows.

"What were you reading?" He questioned, stepping closer.

"I was looking at the book on your desk, but I quickly realized that complex military strategy is not my preferred reading of choice," she smiled coyly. Gratefully, Ozai laughed.

"No, I wouldn't think that would be of any interest for a gentlewoman like yourself. I'll find you something more suitable to read," he offered, and Ursa looked up at him. She smiled, but inside she was still confused. Who was this mistress he had? How long had he been with her? Did he love her? Perhaps she was on old flame, she realized, and he wasn't seeing her any longer. After all, he seemed quite attentive as a husband. She shouldn't mention anything.

"There is a large library in the palace. I can go with you tomorrow. I'll help you find something more enjoyable."

"You're sweet," she replied, to which he smirked.

"Not nearly as sweet as you, my lady," he toyed, playing with her curls and drawing her close. Before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her deeply. Ursa relented. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close, his body warm against hers. It felt nice, Ursa thought, and she tried not to think of Ikem or the woman in the drawer. He kissed her neck and softly moaned her name. When Ozai finally drew back, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around her, holding her close, and moved up to kiss her temple. He inhaled deeply, taking in her sweet scent.

"You smell wonderful," he complimented, humming his approval of her jasmine perfume. Ursa drew away from him.

"You know, sometimes I hate that I have to spend my days in war meetings. I would much rather be here with you, my little wife," he teased, cupping her bottom in his hands and drawing her up towards him. Ursa pushed her hands on his chest and huffed.

"Ozai!" She scolded, scooting out of his grasp. He tilted his head playfully to the side.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "Why don't we just blow this dinner off and spend the night together?" He kissed her neck lasciviously. Ursa didn't understand him. He was playing with her like she was his sweetheart. She wanted to ask about the woman in the drawer but she knew it wasn't appropriate.

"No, please," she chided, "I want to go. I want to meet your friend. Remember you said maybe his wife would like me?" She reminded. Ozai sighed dramatically.

"Fine." He pulled back and straightened his robes.

"Don't you want to see your friend?" She asked, smoothing down her mussed hair.

"I would rather spend the evening with you," he answered, looking over his pretty wife. Her smile was a bit fake. She didn't know if he meant it.

"But if you want to meet them, sure. It's only honorable to accept the invitation, you are right." He leaned back against the desk. Ursa almost rolled her eyes.

"You wanted to cancel a few seconds ago. What happened to honor then?" She wondered aloud, not thinking about whether it was appropriate or not. Ozai laughed, though, and she wasn't expecting that.

"It seemed insignificant in comparison to my beautiful wife, and all her pleasures," he flirted, winking at her. Ursa was startled by his actions. He was speaking so freely, without any thought of his words. He was usually so held back, so reserved. She wondered if he had a few drinks in him.

"Are you drunk, my lord?" She whispered carefully. Ozai chuckled.

"Not yet, my lady," he whispered playfully in return. Suddenly a servant interrupted them, bowing instantly when he saw them.

"Your carriage is prepared, your highness." Ozai straightened.

"We'll be out in a minute," he replied, not even looking at the servant, who quickly exited. Ozai took her by the hand and led her out of the room.

"I almost forgot. I got you something, my dear." Ursa followed him. He picked up a small wooden box from his dresser. Ursa hadn't opened that.

"Stand in front of the mirror. And close your eyes," he instructed, and she did as she was told. Ozai's hands were warm against her neck but the necklace was cold and heavy. He brushed her hair out of the way and put on two earrings.

"Open your eyes." She did. The earrings and necklace were solid gold. The earrings were composed of two circles, a smaller one hanging below the larger. They were inlaid with glittering rubies and emeralds. The necklace was composed of multiple chains of real gold beads, tethered by the same ruby and emerald-encrusted medallions as the earrings. Ursa sighed, awe-struck. She couldn't believe her eyes. Ozai's expression lifted considerably when he saw hers. She was enamored, speechless even. She ran her fingers over the gold and jewels.

"Ozai," she sighed, overwhelmed, "This is too much."

"Not at all. You're a fire nation princess. You deserve all the glittering jewels the world has to offer." She met his gaze in the mirror. His eyes gleamed the same bright gold as her necklace. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"You like it?" He asked.

"I love it. I can't believe I get to wear such gems."

"Not just wear, but own. I had them made especially for you by my jeweler. They are a gift for you," he explained, smiling. She was understanding the appeal of being royalty.

"I never thought I would own jewels like these," she ran her fingers again over the gold.

"A perk of being the wife of a prince, my dear. You are lucky."

* * *

 

An hour later they were seated at dinner in the Miyazaki's, the  _kaiseki_  underway. Ursa knew what it meant, but she had only had it a few times in her life. Instead of a simple meal, the kaiseki was haute cuisine, eaten by the upper classes. It consisted of many different types of dishes in a specific order, usually fourteen. The first dish was announced.

"Sakizuke." They bowed and left without another word. Ursa looked down at the alien-like sea urchin and tried not to make a face. It was served on the most beautiful dishware and served atop real ice, but it still looked like a monster. She didn't understand why the rich ate this way, with all their wealth. It seemed odd. Kai's wife, Asumi, looked to Ursa, smiling.

"Sea urchin is an aphrodisiac," she teased, looking between Ursa and Ozai, and then Ursa couldn't help but make a face. Her eyes went wide. Kai, Asumi, and Ozai all laughed heartily.

"I made her blush," Asumi pointed out, to which Ursa's blush grew even warmer.

"Sorry about my wife," Kai laughed, "Let us eat."

" _Ittekimasu_ ," they all said in unison before starting the meal. Ursa tried not to cringe at the taste. She washed it down with tea.

"I love your jewels, Ursa, they're magnificent," Asumi complimented. Ursa smiled.

"Thank you. Ozai gave them to me tonight as a gift," she looked over to the prince. He said nothing but squeezed her hand under the table.

"I'm sorry again that we couldn't come to your wedding, Prince Ozai," Kai apologized. Ozai shook his head.

"It's no matter," he looked to Ursa, "They were on their honeymoon at the time."

"Oh, how wonderful. Where did you go?" She wondered.

"Ember Island. My family has a summer house there," Kai answered. Asumi looked at her husband fondly, taking a sip of tea.

"It was absolutely lovely. You two should honeymoon there," she commented. Ursa looked to Ozai, who shrugged.

"Perhaps. My family has a villa on that island," Ozai responded calmly.

"So, Ursa, tell us, what do you do in your spare time?" Asumi asked. She was a socialite, Ursa could always tell, and she was excellent at controlling a room. She was like a Geisha - full of femininity and power. Together, Kai and Asumi made a very handsome couple. Kai was tall and lean, the body of a firebender, with a well-shaped face and kind eyes. He looked young. Asumi was tan and beautiful, and her perfect brown hair fell like a silk curtain around her shoulders. She poured the tea, and even in such an easy act she emulated pure beauty and grace.

"I like to draw, read, and act," she answered. Kai raised his eyebrows.

"Acting? How interesting," Asumi muttered. Ursa wasn't sure how these upper-class discussions went. She smiled faintly. Was she complimenting her or insulting her?

"You must show us something sometime, Princess Ursa. A scene or two. We enjoy going to the theater," Asumi commented, linking arms with her husband.

"Oh, I don't know," Ursa answered, looking to Ozai. She didn't know if that was appropriate behavior for a princess. Ozai was eating, not concerned with the conversation muh at all.

"Maybe you could grace us with a song, then?" Asumi asked playfully. Ursa did not know if she was inviting her to be friends or trying to test her.

"My wife can play the lute. You should learn some songs, play together," Kai said.

"There's an idea," Ozai commented, to which Asumi smiled brightly.

"It's settled then. We can play together."

* * *

 

Hours passed as dish after dish was served. There were dishes of sashimi, vegetables, broiled cow-pig, tempura, fish, and miso. The complexity and presentation of each of the dishes was a lot for Ursa to take in. There was talk of firebending, and the war, and literature. Ursa knew almost nothing about all of it. By the end of the meal, she felt much more stupid than she had at the start. Suddenly she was missing the simple nights of eating a bowl of fried rice with her friends and discussing their favorite scenes from the plays. Finally, the last dish was served.

"Mizumono," the servants announced as they set down small bowls of egg-pudding and two baby kumquats on the side.

"Do you know what this is?" Ozai asked. Ursa looked to him, scowling slightly in confusion.

"Dessert?" She whispered incredulously. He laughed heartily, to which the Miyazaki's joined in. Ursa's embarrassment flared. Ozai rested his hand on her thigh.

"Sorry," Kai stopped himself from laughing, "Don't take our laughter to heart. Ozai and I just have a bad sense of humor." Ursa nodded, trying to calm her blush.

"She blushes a lot, doesn't she?" Asumi teased, giggling.

"You have no idea," Ozai jested suggestively, pouring another cup of sake as Kai and his wife laughed again. They were already half-drunk. She looked aside, embarrassed. She hated when they were laughing at her. She wanted to change the subject.

"It is dessert, right?" She asked again, louder this time. Ozai met her gaze and he smiled.

"Yes, dear. But it's a specific type, popular here in the capital. Let me show you." He raised his hand close to the dessert bowl and burned the top using his firebending. Kai did the same for him and his wife's. The heat caused the top of the pudding to scald, turning it brown and golden.

"The fire causes the granules of sugar in the desert to crystalize, but only on the top where the fire reaches," he explained.

"Is Prince Ozai a firebender first, or a scientist? It's hard to say," Kai laughed, pouring the sake for him and his wife. Ozai shot him a face. Ursa smiled.

"What?" Kai asked, "You know your husband is something of a nerd, right Ursa?"

Asumi laughed, covering her face with her sleeve. Ursa chuckled, looking to Ozai. He rolled his eyes, cracking the top of the dessert.

"You know your husband is something of an imbecile, right Asumi?" Ozai retorted back, a slight smirk on his face. Kai laughed heartily.

"Ouch," he joked, placing his hand over his heart. Ursa had never seen anyone be informal with Ozai before, and she found it very interesting.

"Here," Ozai said, setting a cup of saki before Ursa. She looked at the cup skeptically. She hadn't had much alcohol in her life, only some wine or beer here or there. Never hard liquor. Her parents had strictly forbidden it, but it had never intrigued her anyway.

"Everyone," Kai motioned raising his glass in the center, to which the others followed suit, "to married life!"

"To married life!" They replied. Ursa took the shot along with them, cringing in the aftermath. Ozai chuckled.

"Have you never tried Sake before?" He asked curiously. Ursa shook her head. She was going to explain why, but then she remembered she couldn't discuss her parents at all in public. Suddenly she ached for home. Ozai refilled her cup and placed it back in her hands.

"It gets better after the first one," Asumi chimed in, "and try the kumquat in between. The tart cuts through the bitter… Everyone." They all peeled the fruit and ate at the same time.

"And… shot!" Kai instructed. Ursa winced as she shot down the bitter liquid again, quickly chewing on the kumquat again to get the taste out of her mouth. Another hour passed of card playing and charades, but Ursa became so drunk that she couldn't pay attention. Her head was swimming and when she almost fell over halfway through the game, and Ozai wrapped his arm around her to support her.

"I'm going to take her home," he insisted. On the carriage ride home, Ursa leaned into him easily, resting her face in the crook of his neck.

"Did you like them?" Ozai asked, a drunken smile on his face. Ursa hummed into his neck, wrapping her hands around him without a second thought.

"Yeah-they're… sure," she slurred, nuzzling him. It tingled. Ozai laughed again.

"You've never really drank before, have you?" He asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

"No... no, I haven't," she responded, looking out the window of the carriage but stopping when she found it too dizzying.

"How fast are we going?" She asked without really thinking. Ozai laughed and she joined in but didn't know why.

"Have you never been drunk before?" He asked, and Ursa leaned back against him. It was hard to think.

"No," she answered. He smelled like sandalwood.

"Oh my, you're so young. So, how does it feel?" He asked, pulling back so she could look at him. When she looked at his face she was startled by how handsome he was. She traced her fingers over the smooth lines of his cheekbones and lips. She wondered why she was always so sad in this marriage.

"You're so beautiful," she cooed, not realizing she had said it aloud. Ozai chuckled a bit and smirked lopsidedly.

"Well, thank you, my dear," he laughed, "So are you." Ursa raised her eyebrows.

"Did I say that out loud?" He nodded. She giggled like a schoolgirl, pulling him closer. She wondered why was she always so reluctant to let him touch her. He was a handsome prince, her husband. She must be out of her mind, she thought to herself. He was so smart and capable and strong. Ursa did not think of her ex-fiance, nor did she think of the mysterious woman in the drawer. There was little to think about at all. All she was thinking of was the man before her and the warm blood running through her body.

For the first time, she kissed him. Not out of force or necessity, but because she simply wanted to. He was warm and wet against her lips and she loved the sensation of kissing him. Ursa was tingling and light and happy. She wondered why she was always sad all the time. Ozai eagerly returned her kisses and touches, moaning against her and pulling her onto his lap eagerly. She moaned in return as he let his hands wander where they may. The couple was so caught up in each other's affections that when the carriage came to a halt they didn't even notice, too distracted to care. When the driver opened the carriage door he turned bright red. Ursa and Ozai only continued laughing, though, and the whole ordeal seemed rather funny. He pulled her by the hand to his room. She stumbled through the dark halls of the palace behind Ozai, giggling as she stumbled in her platform sandals. Ozai turned back several times to shush her, playfully putting his finger to her lips. When they finally arrived to Ozai's rooms he dramatically shut the doors behind them. Ursa went to the bathroom to pee and came back into the bedroom stumbling, barely able to see where she was going in the darkness. She then tried with little success to remove her heavy jewels and hairpins.

"Sit down," he instructed, guiding her to her vanity chair, "Let me help." Ozai himself fumbled with the clasps in his drunken state, but managed to remove all of her jewels and clothing in a few minutes. She moved to stand but wobbled getting up, so Ozai picked her up and placed her on the bed, laughing as he did so.

"I had no idea you'd get so wasted from a few shots of sake," he joked, smoothing down her hair before he removed his own robes. Ursa laid back on the silken bedspread, sighing at the feeling of the silk on her bare skin.

"You're the one who made me drink," she answered, slurring a bit. She rolled onto her stomach and watched Ozai undress. He was slipping out of his inner robe and then throwing the last of his garments on the chair, followed by his breeches. Ursa giggled and covered her face in the sheets.

"What's so funny?" He asked, moving to sit next to her on the bed. Ursa shook her head.

"I think I'm too young to be married, Ozai," she said. Ozai scowled, moving her over so she would face him. He stroked her hair and her breasts.

"Why do you say that? You're of an appropriate age." He murmured, kissing her lips and

then further down. She brushed his long hair away so it wouldn't tickle her sensitive skin.

"I'm not mature enough. You and your friends, you're all older than me. Smarter than me. I- You all made fun of me. I came off like an idiot," she complained. Ozai looked at her.

"No, we were just teasing you. You're not stupid, darling, you're just- you're a country girl. You'll get used to it here. You just got to the capital. You'll catch on," he soothed, kissing her shoulders and chest. She made a noncommittal noise.

"I don't think they liked me," she complained. Ozai groaned.

"They did. You're overthinking this." He kissed her lips and ran his hands up her thighs, stroking the smooth skin there. She sighed, looking into his eyes.

"Do you like me?" She asked, barely a whisper. Ozai sighed, climbing on top of her.

"Yes," he groaned, kissing her lips greedily, "Yes, I do. Of course, I do. Can't you tell that?" He pulled back, stroking her soft curls. She spread her legs so he could settle between them.

"I like you very much," he muttered in-between kisses, "And I barely like anyone. You are beautiful and naive and sweet. My little wife." She said nothing but was grateful for the compliments. She ran her hands down his back, touching the toned muscles that flexed so easily as he moved. Ursa was so drunk she didn't even notice that he entered, but suddenly he was inside. Ursa moaned easily as he moved in and out. There wasn't any pain at all when she was drunk, only pleasure. And the alcohol left her mind blank, so she thought of nothing but the sensations. He was kissing and sucking on her neck, her lips. He groaned freely and without reserve as he fucked her, any inhibitions thrown out the window.

"My sweet," he purred, "My  _kanojo_." Ursa could barely think in her drunken stupor, but she startled at that. She wondered if he really meant it. His sweetheart. Then again, why would he lie about such a thing? She couldn't possibly understand the advantage of that. They had an arranged relationship, after all. She couldn't say no to him even if she wanted to. It wasn't as if she was a maiden to be seduced into his bed. She had to be with him, it was her duty. She wondered if he thought this was a game. She wondered why he would be trying so hard, but she came up with no answer. Ozai moved her onto her stomach and entered her again from behind, pulling her close and taking her slowly, romantically. His hands wrapped around her waist and he accented each thrust with a grunt or a moan. He purred her name, smoothed his hands up and down her back, kissed her shoulder and whispered little compliments in her ear over and over again. Everything started blurring together in Ursa's mind, but still, she knew something was off. Something felt strange. He was moaning her name in such a way. It was different than their times together sober, she could tell. The way he touched her was different, the way he sighed her name. She never thought she would say so, given his reputation, but it was actually… romantic.

"Ursa," he repeated her name like a mantra, faster now that he was nearer to climax. Ursa moaned along, enjoying the pleasure. She tried to forget it all. It was easier to just moan for him and let her mind go blissfully blank.

" _Ozai_..."

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**A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks**


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